


Mine

by JhandsLuvr69



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Asphyxiation, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2825048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JhandsLuvr69/pseuds/JhandsLuvr69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys makes a new friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

_“We’ll talk later, Rhys.” The hologram bearing Handsome Jack’s visage dissipated into the thin air, leaving Rhys in a state of startled confusion._

There were many lessons to be learned about life on Pandora. For example, don’t call a stranger Grease Face, no matter how greasy his face might be. Rhys learned that one the hard way. He still hadn’t received the memo about messing with the mysterious technology of deceased CEOs, however. Hidden behind the dressing screen inside Fiona and Sasha’s van, Rhys turned the odd metal device they had found at the old Atlas laboratory over and over again in his hands. This thing contained a map of every Vault on Pandora as well as a digital ghost, and he was determined to find out how, and why. Readying his ECHO eye implant, he scanned the peculiar machine, trying to see if the ECHOnet had any useful information on it. What he received was a searing jolt of electricity in his eye, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Stop trying to scan that, will you?”

Rhys’ heart leapt into his throat. That was  _Jack’s_  voice. He set down the metal gizmo and frantically looked side to side for the hologram. A laugh emanated from nowhere in particular, and he realized it was coming from inside his own head.  _How?_  Hand clamped over his synthetic eye, Rhys grimaced. “How are you in there?” His eye sent out another electric shock, and this time he actually  _yelped._

“First thing’s first, pumpkin.  _I_  will tell you what to do, and  _you_  will listen. Or you’ll have to deal with this.” Another shock, even more intense than the last two. “And we don’t want that, do we?”

Reeling from the pain, Rhys shook his head weakly. Both his heart and mind were racing. How did Jack get inside his head? Would he be like this forever, a puppet for someone or something else to control? The thought made him feel anxious. Anxiety turned into full-blown panic as, on its own, his prosthetic arm shot out and began flexing its joints.

“Nice arm you have here,” Jack said, forcing the robotic hand to form a fist. “It’s mine now.” Rhys attempted to unclench his hand to no avail, and begged for Jack to release control of his limb. Panic transformed into terror when the arm shot up to his own neck, crushing his windpipe. “What did I tell you about listening to me?” Jack’s tone had grown significantly more sinister. “Maybe this will make my message clearer.”

Gasping and choking, Rhys tried to pry the metal hand free with his flesh-and-bone one. Once again, a futile effort. He pounded at the floor, hoping Vaughn, who was snoring gently on the other side of the screen, would wake up and come to his rescue. It appeared this was also in vain. Rhys was scared, more scared than he had ever been in his short life. This isn’t how he wanted to die, this wasn’t how he was supposed to die. Not with his own hand suffocating him. He started to black out, Jack’s cruel laughter echoing in his head.

And suddenly, he was free. The robot arm fell limply to the ground, and Rhys sputtered as he tried to suck in as much air as he could. His neck ached, and he rubbed it gingerly with his organic hand. Jack was still laughing.

“Let’s get this straight. This arm is  _mine_. You are mine. I can do this,” the prosthetic reached for Rhys’ neck again, and the boy flinched. “I can do  _this,_ ” Jack lowered his hand to Rhys’ crotch, eliciting a confused grunt. “And you are powerless to stop me.” He started to massage the area, working his host into an erection. Face flushed at the perverted turn of events, Rhys fought the urge to try and pull his hand -- no,  _Jack’s_ hand -- away from his groin. Although at this point, he didn’t really want to. It felt good. Good in a scary, unfamiliar, I-nearly-suffocated-to-death-mere-seconds-ago way.

“Help me with your belt buckle.” Rhys scrambled to obey, afraid of being strangled again. In a flash, his trousers and Hyperion-branded boxer briefs were pulled down to his thighs, leaving his hard cock exposed. “Not bad,” Jack bemused as he grasped the member firmly. Rhys’ face reddened even deeper, if possible. This might be the weirdest masturbation session he’d ever had, but he wasn’t about to pretend he’d never jerked it to the thought of the real Handsome Jack before. What could he say? The man lived up to his title. He sighed as the cold metal hand stroked, albeit slowly.

“You like this?” Jack asked. His voice was… Husky. Sultry, even. Rhys didn’t know how else to describe it. He nodded. “Well, I’m flattered.” A metal thumb spread precum around Rhys’ glans and coaxed out a moan. Jack ceased stroking. Unconsciously, Rhys’ hips ground into Jack’s palm, eager for more friction. Rhys opened his eyes when he heard a chortle, unaware that he had closed his eyes in the first place. “Oh, you poor thing. It’s not going to be that easy. I want you to beg me for it.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. This hologram had a taste for the melodramatic, apparently. “You  _cannot_  be serious.” He reached for his dick with his left hand, only to have it harshly slapped away by Jack’s.

“Beg.”

He felt ridiculous. Vaughn was asleep just five feet away from him! He was asking to be caught with his pants down, literally. How could he ever hope to explain  _that?_   _“Yeah, an artificial intelligence designed to look and act like Handsome Jack possessed my prosthetic arm and jerked me off.”_  Perhaps, if he closed his eyes hard enough, he could go to sleep, and this would all be a weird, fucked up dream in the morning. A painful jolt to his eye socket told Rhys otherwise.

“ _Beg._ ” Jack’s fingers grazed against Rhys’ neck, and the employee seized up.

“Please, don’t choke me again.”

Jack gave a  _tsk_ of disapproval. “Choking is something you do when you eat too fast. If you don’t want me to  _strangle_  you, I’m gonna need some cooperation here, Rhys.”

“... Please make me cum.” Rhys’ voice was barely a whisper.

The back of Jack’s hand grazed against Rhys’ cock, and the boy shuddered. “I’m not sure who you’re addressing, kiddo.”

“Please make me cum, Jack.”

Chilly titanium fingers started to fondle his balls. Rhys keened, desperate for release. Jack remained unsatisfied. “So informal. Do you address your superiors up on Helios like that?”

“Please let me cum, sir. Please.” His back arched against the wall.

“Now that is what I like to hear. But I don’t think your friend on the other side of this screen heard you. Louder.” Adding a twist to each stroke, Jack gained speed.

Rhys moaned, and loud he was. “Oh, fuck. Please, please just let me cum, sir. Please!”

Jack snorted derisively. “You sound so pathetic.” But he was apparently appeased, as he continued to jerk Rhys until the boy came with a strangled whimper onto Jack’s fingers. Eyes lidded, Rhys panted, not really sure how to feel about what just took place. He sensed Jack’s arm moving. It wasn’t until he felt wet metal press against his lips that he realized what was happening.

“You know what to do,” Jack commanded. Apprehensive lips parted to make way for sticky fingers. When Rhys finished licking them clean of his own cum, Jack forced two fingers into the back of his throat. He gagged. “You’re mine now. Don’t forget that.” The hand went limp once more, and Rhys realized he had control of it again. He studied it apprehensively, afraid it would betray him again.

“Ugh,  _dude_ , can’t you do that outside or something?” Vaughn’s head peered around the dressing screen, face contorted in an expression of utter disgust.

Rhys gasped and pulled up his pants. “No, look, I’ll explain everything - “

“Please, spare me. I’m going to go back to bed, and I’m going to pretend this won’t be seared onto my eyelids for the rest of my life.” Vaughn bid his friend a curt goodnight, and returned to his bedroll. Moments before Rhys himself finally drifted off to sleep, he could have sworn he heard a faint chuckle...


End file.
